Page 11 of Not his Marchioness
“Ravenscar. What are you doing here?” she demanded.
The Marquess smirked in that way that had driven her to distraction before.
“I was under the impression that the streets are available for anyone to walk on. Has that changed? Is there now a fee one must pay? A license? Permission from the residents to walk on the road?”
Charlotte’s nostrils flared. “You think yourself so clever.”
“I do, indeed,” the Marquess said. “But I haven’t come to have my cleverness confirmed. I’ve come for another reason. To solve our problems.”
“Ourproblems? I did not know my problems and yours were connected. Indeed, I did not know you had any serious problems. You certainly do not act as though you do. Anyway, what were you doing here, near my house? Were you seeking me out so you can annoy me?”
“No,” he replied. “I was seeking you out because I wanted to ask you to marry me.”
That knocked the wind out of her. She blinked, aware that she had to look rather dumb, and then recovered her senses. She was not going to look like a fool in front of him.
“Marry you?”
“Yes. I beg your pardon, did I speak in Latin? I did not mean it. Let me try again in English. Marry me. Become my wife. The Marchioness of Ravenscar.”
“You must have taken leave of your senses,” she huffed.
“Must I? From what I see, your reputation is in tatters, and Lord Emery is still determined to make you his bride. I heard him bragging at the club just last night that he was speaking with your father about it. So, either your father is going to force you to marry him, or he’s going to force you on somebody else—the highest bidder. Let us cut out all of that. Marry me instead.”
“I’ll have you know that I will not marry anybody. Emery, you, or anybody else. I will be on my own. I have told my father that I would rather sell potatoes on the side of the road.”
He snorted a laugh. “I beg your pardon, but I imagine you will not be any good at that. Where are you going to buy potatoes from? With what money? Are you going to trespass on someone’s property and steal them?”
“I did not literally mean potatoes,” she shot back, exasperated. “I meant… In any case, why would you marry me? Why would I marryyou?”
He shoved his hands into his pockets and tapped his right shoe on the grass. “I already told you why you should marry me. But let me elaborate. Marry me, and you will be free of your father’s machinations. You will have a grand title, a grand estate, and freedom. I will demand nothing of you that you are not willing to give. As for me, you may have been too occupied with your problems, but the latest lie written about me has rather made things complicated. In addition, certain troubles have befallen me in the House of Lords, which can only be vanquished by presenting a suitable wife.”
He paused for a moment, as if carefully considering his next words.
“My reputation is in tatters. So is yours. By joining forces, we can help each other. You’ll be out from under your father’s thumb and saved from becoming an ape leader—as you so eloquently put it—and I’ll have a respectable wife to present on my arm when required. I am told that having a respectable wife goes a long way toward convincing the world to look past one’s indiscretions.”
Charlotte winced, tasting her morning tea at the corners of her lips. “I am hardly respectable.”
“Not at the moment,” the Marquess countered. “But once you are married, we will give everybody something to talk about—two scandalous creatures getting married—that should get some coverage. But then we will spin it into a redemption. We have both seen the error of our ways and are helping each other become respectable once more. If you like, we can throw in a little forbidden romance. Say that we were already destined for one another when your father told you that you were to marry Emery, which caused your outburst. See? It is perfect.”
Charlotte stood there, staring at him. How could he speak such nonsense and yet make perfect sense? She was almost ready to agree, but another thought came to her.
“Lord Emery is a well-known rake. You told me yourself that he is the number one rake in the country. But I also recall you telling me that you are number two. How am I improving my situation by exchanging one rake for a slightly less terrible one?”
“Because with me, you know from the beginning what life will be like. As I said, I will never ask you to give me an heir. I will never demand anything of you that you do not wish to give. The only thing I ask is that you play the role of devoted wife. That is all. I promise to conduct my affairs discreetly. It will be a partnership. We will be accountable to each other. Can you say the same for Emery?”
She gulped and shook her head. She couldn’t.
And this? This was folly. This was utterly silly.
“I could never.”
Couldn’t she? And yet the idea of being thrown out and having to rely on Nathaniel and Evelyn was distasteful. She had to do something. She couldn’t let her entire family fall to ruin because of her decision. She couldn’t cause trouble between Nathaniel and her father. Although there would already be trouble. But perhaps less so.
As for Marianne, with a sister married to a duke and another married to a marquess, her prospects would be good. Right?
Charlotte would never have a chance to marry for love. She would never have children. She would never be a true wife. And yet, if her other options were relying on her sister for the rest of her life while being married to a man who would undoubtedly mistreat her, then was this so bad?
Could she not find happiness this way?
